


Any Given Sunday

by knic26



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comedy, Fluff, M/M, Minor Character Death, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-18
Updated: 2008-08-18
Packaged: 2018-10-26 16:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knic26/pseuds/knic26
Summary: Six Sundays in the Life of Ron and Dean





	Any Given Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Betaed by Star54kar/Shieldmaiden.  Originally written for IamShadow for the Weasley_Fest at Livejournal.

_The Sunday after Ron’s 35th birthday party_

Dean woke up to birds chirping. It was Sunday and he was recuperating from a raucous birthday party the night before. ‘I’m getting too old for all this’, he thought to himself as his aching muscles protested his morning stretch. In the process he realized that his bed partner was missing. Ron’s spot was still warm, indicating that he hadn’t been up long, but for a non-workday after the night they'd had, Dean was surprised that Ron had risen before noon.

Still stretching and yawning, Dean got up, pulled on his boxer shorts and went looking for his lover. He walked into the kitchen where the sight of his man, wearing only a royal blue dressing gown, standing in front of the window as the rising sun’s beams encased him in an orange-yellow glow, took his breath away. This was one of those times in an artist’s life where the question was not ‘is this going to be sketched?’ The question was ‘will I be able to commit this to memory before he moves?’

Dean had tons of sketches of Ron lying around. He had more than twenty Muggle sketchbooks with at least five completely dedicated to his favorite subject. They contained Ron sleeping on the couch, Ron servicing his broom, Ron holding little James Potter and watching the ducks in the lake. That one turned into one of the first paintings Dean sold to someone outside his core group of friends and family. He still kept the original sketch, but the painting, shown in a large, prestigious gallery in London, had pulled in enough for Ron and Dean to put a down payment on the house where they had lived for over six years, and made him one of the darlings of the new art scene.

Without turning his head, Ron smirked and said, “I know you’re there. Come watch the sunrise with me. You can worry about the sketch later.” Dean scratched his belly through the wiry hairs near the elastic band of his shorts while he padded toward his love. He wrapped his long arms around Ron’s waist from behind and immediately began to nuzzle and kiss the pale neck before him.

“Mmmm….very nice, but you’re missing the greetings of the sun.”

Dean kissed up to the earlobe, sucked it gently, and said, “I hate waking up without you. Why don’t you come back to bed and make it up to me with a Sunday Morning Shag.”

Ron laughed gently while turning around in his arms. “You are such a soppy git, though your bed idea does have merit. I have already started breakfast and the kettle is on for tea. Why don’t you help me finish up here then we can have breakfast in bed, and maybe later get back to me ‘making it up to you’.”

They worked quickly, and within half an hour, they had finished cooking and eating breakfast. Afterward, they did get back into bed and began to kiss and touch one another with certainty borne only of years of knowledge. Dean licked and kissed the scars down Ron’s left arm, but only touched the uppermost ones on the right because the rest, for some reason, caused more pain than pleasure. Ron kissed Dean’s neck, but not behind his ears because that was one set of ticklish places. They still had adventurous sex when the mood struck, but Sunday mornings were a chance for the two of them to reconnect with each other after the perils of the week and to reassert their love in the most comfortable ways possible.

The rest of the day, after the morning shag, was spent cleaning up after Ron’s party and carefully putting away Wizarding Wheezes from George’s shop. It was an inside joke that Dean never really ‘got’, but for all birthdays and holidays within the Weasley family, in addition to the normal present, there was always a Puking Pasty, Canary Cream, or some other small joke item. He had asked about it for years, but never got a direct answer, so he just gave up and put them into the closet with the rest. The Daydream Chews really came in handy when he was listening to Harry and Gin’s youngest son Albus talk about…well, anything. The boy could go on for hours. He wasn’t yet old enough to realize that the vacant look in Dean’s eye was definitely not interest.

Following their day of cleaning, lazing about and another evening shag, they went to bed together secure in the knowledge that Sundays were their own, at least three Sundays out of a month, to make sure their relationship was where it needed to be.

~♥~  
 _The Sunday before the Monday Dean opened his own Gallery in London_

Normally the day would have started with a Sunday Morning Shag. Unfortunately, Dean was so nervous about Monday’s events that he could barely get up to go to the restroom, much less get it up for his lover. Ron, being the loving and caring man that he is, found Molly Weasley’s No More Nerves potion and added a few drops to Dean’s morning tea. It was a brew that she developed while in her short-lived internship at St. Mungo’s, before she left to raise her family. Even after all these years, Molly’s potions were on par with the best Potions Masters in England.

“Thank you, love. This should help. I’m just so worried about everything. Will it be a success? Will they like my work? Will the other artists’ work be up to my expectations? Will I….”

Ron caught Dean’s lips with his own. When he pulled back, there was only one word. “Drink.” Ron continued to hold the teacup while Dean pulled from its contents.

The change was immediate. Dean was no longer fidgety or talkative. A visible sense of calm swept over his body like a warm blanket. He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes.

“Lay down with me.”

The timber of his voice had lowered several registers, into a sexy morning purr. Ron couldn’t refuse a request like that. He quickly placed the teacup onto the nightstand and lay down beside his lover.

Dean started to caress his lover’s hair and face. “That really helped, but I know one thing that would be even better.”

“Hmmm?”

“Make love to me. Remind me that I have talents and abilities, not just dumb luck. Tell me that I wasn’t just in the right place at the right time.”

Through all of their time together, Ron rarely saw Dean’s insecure side. He was more likely to see the confidence and sure-footed attitude that Dean wore like a cloak. Even inside their home, nervous insecurity was more often Ron’s forte, leading Dean to comfort him in the best way possible. Ron knew that the majority of this was the potion allowing these words to come to the surface, but he knew the core of the problem.

On some level, Dean was still the Gryffindor drawing lions for Quidditch matches. He didn’t see himself as one of the premier artists in Europe. He just wanted to sell enough work to be able to keep up with bills and have enough left over to buy his buddies a few pints at the Leaky. Ron loved that about him just as much as he loved seeing Dean dressed to the nines at some gallery showing his work. Ron knew that he deserved this. Deserved his own personal space to both showcase his own work and the work of the fledgling artists currently where Dean was ten years ago.

Ron used words, actions and his entire body to let Dean know that he was worthy of this. He had worked hard over the years and it was his turn to be the person running the show.

By that afternoon, Dean’s confidence had returned. He was so grateful to Ron for shagging him out of his slump, that the afternoon they spent at the Burrow was followed by an evening playing a pickup Quidditch game. Dean often refused to play in order to sit on the sidelines with the younger kids while their parents took flight- purely to protect his hands, not at all because the broom’s brush reminded him of the hair of a hag. Ron often told him that seeing his ass on a broom was one of his few remaining wank fantasies, so Dean chose that day to refresh memories by playing Chaser on Ron’s team.

~~♥~~  
 _The Sunday they were interrupted during the Sunday Morning Shag_

“Ugh, ugh, uggghhhhh”

“Mmmmm….”

“Ahh, yes, faster!!”

“Love it, Love you, mmmm….so tight.”

“Boys….”

“Ron, why are you making your voice sound like your mother while we are in the middle of this?”

“Huh?”

“Ronnie, it’s Mum. This is more important than your Sunday Morning Shag! Come to the Floo, or I’m coming in there.”

“Shit, Ron! How does she know about our Sunday Morning Shag??”

Ron yelled, “Coming, Mum!” More quietly to Dean he said, “I don’t know, but right now is not the time to find out.” Ron quickly scrambled to disentangle himself from his lover and find his blue dressing gown. With apologetic kisses on his lips, Ron left Dean to scramble for his own presentable clothing.

When he was sure his erection had gone down enough to see his mother without her seeing more of him than polite, Ron kneeled down near the hearth to see his mum’s face.

“There you are Ronnie, dear. You and Dean need to get down to the Hospital quickly. Hermione’s in Labor.”

“In…but… the baby isn’t due for another month. It’s too early.”

“She’s had a fairly normal pregnancy so far and it’s almost full term. There shouldn’t be any major problems, but Charlie is in a right state. You have always been the only one that could calm him down. Get here as soon as you and Dean get dressed…and a good freshening charm wouldn’t be remiss either, dear. I can smell your Carnal Activity through the fire.”

With that, she was gone.

From the bedroom door, “'Carnal Activity'?”

“You heard, huh?”

“Yah.”

“We’re going to be godfathers.”

“Again, yah. Daniel is your godson too.”

“But he was born before we got serious. We both get to be with this one from the start. Are you ready to help a new life face the big bad world?”

“With us helping her through, the big bad world will never get in our Rosie’s way”

A couple of kisses, a few freshening charms, and an irate brother-slash-father-to-be later, Ron and Dean were the third and fourth to hold little Rose Weasley.

~~~♥~~~  
 _The Sunday After they Babysat Rosie from Friday night through Saturday Evening_

“It's much too early to leave a three-month old alone with her godfathers!”

“That wasn’t the song when you told your brother to take his wife away for the weekend. Or did you conveniently forget that?”

Ron just wanted to do something nice for Charlie and Hermione. They had been run ragged with little Rosie, and he knew that Dean loved kids, so they offered to take the little one off their hands for the weekend. Hermione couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her daughter from Friday through Sunday, but couldn’t deny that she needed at least a small break. She was working from home as well as being a full-time mum.

Though the romantic relationship between Ron and Hermione had been dead and buried for over sixteen years, he still occasionally saw the overachieving bookworm he fell in love with so long ago. He knew, even better than his brother, that if Hermione weren’t made to slow down, she would run herself into the ground.

The decision had been made for Ron to fire call Charlie while he and Dean lay relaxing after the previous Sunday’s morning shag. That was before they spent almost two full days with a peeing, pooping, wailing three month old. Friday night had started well enough. Hermione changed her mind about three times before Charlie finally pulled her from the door. Rose had been fed, burped, and was finding her feet very fascinating when Dean heard the first noises.

“Gas like your Uncle Ronnie, my girl.”

When he looked over at Rosie’s red face and expression of extreme concentration, he knew that extra air wasn’t the only thing being pushed out of the young lady.

Dean called out to the other room, “Ron, it’s the baby’s bath time. Why don’t you run the water while I get her cleaned up?”

“Clean her before the bath….Oh MY GOD!! What are they feeding that child???” The smell hit as he walked into the room.

“Unless you would rather get her ready for bath?”

“No, no, carry on.”

After that, the night had been fun. They put her down in a cot they had set up in the guest room. Ron got up with her for her one a.m. feeding and Dean woke up at six for the sunrise shift. The problems really started in the early afternoon when the baby was completely inconsolable. She cried for what felt like hours. After a while, they finally broke down and fire-called Molly. A teething ring, charmed to stay cool, was placed into Rose’s mouth and there was peace again in the home.

Their Sunday Morning Shag was postponed in favor of a Sunday morning lie-in. Neither of them had realized how trying being the sole caretakers of a baby would be, and their experience brought their respect for Hermione to new heights.

“We’ll get her again when she is out of nappies. By then most of her teeth will be in and she will be able to flush away the toxic waste.”

Dean chuckled as he rolled toward Ron, and ran his fingers through the copper colored strands. That single caress prompted Ron to look into Dean’s eyes. ‘The look’ that still stole his breath after knowing Ron for twenty-four years and being his lover for almost ten was all they needed for the lie-in to come back to knee melting kisses, intimate touches and their Sunday Morning Shag.

~~~~♥~~~~  
 _The Sunday after the accident, and the new arrival_

Ron walked into the living room he shared with Dean to one of the most heartbreaking sights since the war. Dean had his arm around an eleven-year-old Daniel. He had cried nearly non-stop after the car accident that had taken his mother and father from him. Apparently he had woken up crying this morning, too.

Though both Dean’s sister and her husband were Muggles, Daniel had shown magical tendencies at a young age, so even if he weren’t his godfather, Dean most likely would have taken him in. After the accident, Dean asked Ron his opinion on keeping the young boy. They had never had any thoughts of being parents, after all. Uncles or godfathers? Sure. Keep them, give them horsey rides and sugar until it’s time for them to go home, then give them back was the normal philosophy. Now they would be home with a sad, confused boy.

Ron never batted an eye. “He is our responsibility. Now he will be our son. We will do exactly what he needs us to do and we will love him until he doesn’t hurt anymore. Then we will love him some more.”

Ron Transfigured the couch they were sitting on into a bed. As Dean laid down with Danny, Ron slid in behind him so that he would know he was surrounded by love.

~~~~~♥~~~~~  
 _The Sunday of their Tenth Anniversary_

As Ron and Dean lay in bed this Sunday morning, they could hear three young boys trying to be quiet, while making more racket than a herd of elephants.

“Danny, Albus, and James get along really well.”

“Yeah, it helps to have kids near your own age to talk to. Daniel is adjusting really well to life in the Wizarding world. He may not have as much of a shock as I did when I found out I was…special.”

Dean still remembered feeling different when his magic first manifest itself. Not having anyone to talk to without them thinking he was crazy. Remembering the odd looks his mother gave him and knowing that it probably had something to do with his father. Dean didn’t find out until years later that his father had left his mother to try to protect them from Death Eaters, around the same time that he had been killed by those from whom he was trying to protect his wife and son.

Dean still didn’t talk about it much, but Ron knew and didn’t push.

“So, ten years with me. Did you ever think you would make it?”

“After the oddity of our first year, it was either make it or kill each other in embarrassment!” In bed they reminisced about the highlights and lowlights of the past ten years. They talked about their first date, meeting the parents as lovers-not just friends, and especially their now infamous Sunday Morning Shag.

The actual ‘shag’ part of the ritual hadn’t been as prominent since Daniel moved in, but the love and laughter that he added to the house more than made up for having to wear pajamas to sleep on the weekends. Having the other kids around helped him to move through his pain and knowing he could talk to Dean and Ron at anytime, day or night, helped him in the healing process. Danny would always miss his mother and father, but he had gained so much with his uncles.

A knock on the door brought them out of their quiet conversation.

“Come in.”

“Uncle Ron, Uncle Dean, we made breakfast for you.” Both Ron and Dean smiled at their nephews. They also inwardly groaned at having to grin as they ate one of the most horrible meals known to man. They could see shells in the eggs, overly browned (black) toast and neither of them wanted to know what was floating in the tea. Dean hoped it was just a bag that had been emptied of its contents.

Just as Ron was about to take the first bite, Harry stepped into the doorway.

“Gotcha! You didn’t really think we would do that did you?” The boys started laughing uproariously. “Ginny’s bringing the real breakfast to you now and all the boys are spending the day with us at the Burrow. Molly doesn’t expect you to show up today until about eight to pick up Danny. You can’t get out of Sunday at the Burrow completely, but she will make allowances for your Tenth.”

After everyone else left the bedroom and breakfast was finished, Ron rolled into Dean’s arms. “Do you regret any of it? Our crazy life and family? Would you do it all again?

Dean looked deep into Ron’s eyes and saw all the love, friendship, and passion that he had been gifted with over the past ten years. “No regrets. I wouldn’t change a second with you if I could.” Kisses and caresses lead to bites and nips, which led to their regular Sunday Morning Shag.


End file.
